Page:The Folk-Lore Journal Volume 7 1889.djvu/480

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344 MORRICE DANCERS AT REVESBY.

[Then the Fool, kneeling down, with the swords round his ne(?k, says

Now, Gentlemen, you see how ungratefull my Children is grown; when I had them all at Home, small, about as big as I am, I put them out to good learning, I put them to Coxcomb Colledge, and then to the University of Loggerheads, and I took them Home again this good time of Christmas, and I examin'd them all one by one altogether for shortness, and now they are grown so proud and so presumptions they are a-going to kill their old Father for his little means; so I must dye for all this.

Pickle Herring. You must dye, Father.

Fool. And I will die for all the tother; but I have a little some- thing, I will give it amongst you as far as it goes, and then I shall dye quietly.

Pickle Herring. I hope you will.

Fool. So to my first Son Pickle Herring, I'll give him the roaned

Nag, and that will make the Rogue brag, And to my second Son, Pll

give him the brindled Cow; And to my Third Son, Pll give him the

sanded Sow, and hope I shall please you all enoAv; And to my fourth

Son, I'll give him the great ruff Dog, for he always lives like a Hog;

And to my Fifth Son, I'll give him the Ram, and I'll dye like a

Lamb.

[Then they draw their Swords, and the Fool

falls on the floor, and the Dancers walk once

round the Fool, and Pickle Herring stamps

with his foot, and the Fool rises on his knees

again, and Pickle Herring says

How now, Father?

Fool. How now, then. Boy, I have another squeak for my life. Pickle Herring. You have a many.

[Then the Dancers, puting their Swords round the Fool's neck again,

Fool. So I must dye.

Pickle Herring. You must dye, Father.